Last week, in my new series, Into the Wild, I shared the first archetype – the Survivor. Although I’m framing this around my personal experience, I can see evidence of this archetype in many of the business leaders and high achievers I consider peers, too. This is the part of us that deserves most of the credit for our biggest achievements. The Survivor’s ingenuity and resilience supports us during the most challenging seasons of life, but when this part of us stays in the driver’s seat too long, it inevitably leads to burnout and over-functioning. That’s what happened to me.
But thanks to a deep curiosity within me and a connection to a coach who introduced me to a mode of self-therapy called Parts Work or Internal Family Systems, I have been able to recognize and interact with my sub-personalities to effectively change behavior and develop living relationships with the different parts of me. It has been through this process that I’ve given my Survivor permission to rest – actually, to be on standby, if you will – and to allow other parts of my psyche to step up and support me in my pursuit of living life in flow.
As the Survivor cooperated with me to create margin for other parts of myself, a new archetype emerged – The Explorer. This series explores symbolic archetypes within myself through the process of painting animal skulls and reflecting on the parts of me they represent. Each piece is both a story and an invitation into your own self-exploration. Join me on another journey Into the Wild.
When I finished painting the Aoudad sheep skull I call the Survivor, I shared a short video clip of the finished piece on my social media. To my surprise, it was my dad who responded with the most enthusiasm. A few days later, I got a text message with two photos: one of a goat skull, and the other of a 9-point antlered deer skull.
His text read, “I got you some more skulls to paint.”
I called him right away. He shared with me that he has a friend who works on a large ranch and these skulls came from the ranch. The excitement in his voice was boy-like and joyful. I felt tears forming in the corners of my eyes and I did my best to keep my emotions from overtaking my voice as I thanked him and told him I couldn’t wait to paint them.
My dad has liver cancer, and over the last year, I’ve begun to truly grok the reality that our earthly days together are numbered. It seems like the smallest interactions with him lately spur me to tears of gratitude mixed with grief. Even as I write this I feel the bulbous fluid gathering under my eyelids.
At Thanksgiving, Dad brought the skulls to me.
All three animal skulls: Aoudad, Goat, Deer
I inspected my new gifts.
The width of the goat skull surprised me, especially when comparing it to the Aoudad and Deer. Although a smaller animal, the goat’s head was as big as the wild sheep and larger than the deer. It’s eye sockets protruded slightly to the sides of the skull. I noticed that the sheep and the deer both have “seams” down the center of the forehead, but the primary bone of the goat’s forehead is shaped like an upside down triangle. I knew right away that I wanted to paint the spiraling symbol of Pachamama on this central space on the head. I had visited Peru last June and connected deeply with the indigenous people’s reverence for Mother Earth, or Pachamama as the Peruvians call our planet, and I felt like this skull was meant to honor that divine connection.
The delicateness of the deer’s facial bones contrasting with the weight of the beautiful antlers seem to whisper to me that this skull contained a special message for me, but not just yet.
So, I was drawn to spend time with the goat for the next installment of Into the Wild.
As I’ve answered the call to paint, my intuition told me once again to let my soul connect with my special canvas made of bone before I begin. So, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. When I opened my eyes, I began to scan the bottles and tubes of paint on my desk.
“Which colors want to co-create with me today?” I said to myself.
I’m drawn to a metallic gold and pull a few other colors that I used on the Survivor. I wanted the goat to connect to the Aoudad in some way, but still express it’s unique story. As I looked through my paint colors, I wished I had a neon pink. I decided to try my hand at mixing paints to get the color, and was pleasantly surprised with ChatGPT’s recipe for getting a bright pink from red, orange, and white.
But it’s the Pachamama symbol that can’t wait to appear on the skull. I squeeze a light green blob of paint onto my palette, choose a thin round brush, and begin.
As I paint, the story of the Explorer part of me begins to unfold within my mind.
In the same rocky terrain of my challenges where the Survivor learned to endure, the Explorer dares to evolve.
This part of me, like the goat, is a bit of a rebel. It’s that part that pushes boundaries and then steps right over them. It’s always climbing to new heights and seemingly insatiable, so I chose to paint bright yellow arrows pointing upward on each quadrant of the goat’s face.
This part isn’t cautious and strategic like the Survivor – it’s curious and adventurous. It’s similar to the Survivor in that it fearlessly steps into the unknown, but in contrast to the Survivor’s penchant for safety and security, the Explorer is unafraid to test limits and take risks. It approaches life recklessly at times, but is admired and appreciated for its strength as an unrelenting seeker of new paths and its courage to take bold leaps into the unknown.
The Explorer is shaping more than my art – she’s reshaping how I relate to uncertainty, creativity, and even to myself. She’s ushering in a fertility of ideas, too.
I paint bright pink, purple, bright blue, and then metallic gold surrounding the light green Pachamama symbol, front and center. I reflect on how Mother Earth’s fertility and growth is relentless and overflowing – just like my artistic mind seems to be these days.
I say a prayer of gratitude for finally feeling unstuck. Burnout’s sneakiest move is to block our creativity, and it’s in this moment meditating on the Explorer in me that I realize my creative flow is coming back. I had forgotten what that felt like, but now that I’ve got a little taste, I’m using my Explorer traits to journey to the edges of myself again and again.
Every part of us has a story – not just to tell, but to live through us.
This week, I invite you to meet your own Explorer. The curious, risk-taking, idea-chasing part of you that seeks expansion over safety.
Take a moment to reflect:
As I mentioned in the introductory post for Into the Wild, my goal with this series is to learn in public and share my journey in real time versus trying to give you bite-sized lessons from the other side of this chasm. I’m following the Explorer’s lead for now, and I don’t yet know where we’re going. If you’re curious too, stay close – there’s more coming. Sign up for the newsletter and subscribe to my YouTube channel to be notified when new posts and videos are live.
Watch the video for behind the scenes in my studio and further narratives about the inner Explorer.
100 Liminal Days is an experimental project of embracing my current transition season after exiting my business. I'm sharing an honest, real-time account of a self-initiation experience following The Artist's Way course in daily posts which are usually 1,500-3,000 words long.
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